Skipper
by hindsight404
Summary: Shepard's thoughts on Ashley romance and the mission in ME2. Reviews are welcome.


_Disclaimer: all credit goes to Bioware for characters and story._

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><p><em>Skipper<em>

"We had something, Shepard. Something real. I…I loved you."

Operations Chief Ashley Williams, Alliance soldier, my best friend – the woman I loved – sighed before she continued talking to me.

"I thought you were dead. I almost… How could you put me through that? Why didn't you try to contact me? Why didn't you let me know you were alive?"

I thought about my words carefully before I said them.

"I'm sorry, Ash. I was clinically dead. It took two years to bring me back. So much time has passed. You've moved on. I don't want to reopen old wounds."

But seeing her tore a trench through _my_ heart.

She stared at the ground for a moment and said, "I moved on…" as if the words were only partly true. It made me wonder. Had she moved on? But then she continued. "But here you are pulling me back in. And now we've got reports about you and Cerberus."

Damn Cerberus. Damn Cerberus and the Illusive Man to hell.

"Reports?" Garrus interrupted. "You mean you already knew?"

The rest of our conversation rolled through my mind as I sat in my cabin on the _Normandy_ SR2. I sat there, leaning forward running my hands over face while trying my best to avoid looking at Ashley's picture on my desk. But my best wasn't enough. I glanced over at the holo every couple seconds or so and then I would go back in time and think of the night before Ilos, the day after we saved the Citadel, meeting her again on Horizon, that damned message she sent me after our reunion…

_Shepard,_

_I'm sorry for what I said back on Horizon. When I lost you two years ago, it tore me up. I prayed for you every day. I read a lot of Tennyson, thinking about you, just like I did when my dad passed. And then you came back, and it was like my prayers were answered. But I'm not who I was then, and neither are you._

_I don't know what's true anymore. Part of me can't believe it's really you. I keep going back to that night before Ilos, our night… I haven't let myself think about those memories for more than a year now._

_I wouldn't have expected you to work for Cerberus, but I know why they sent you to Horizon. I saw how many people were lost there, and if anyone can stop the Collectors, you can. I can't go where you're going, but I can wish you luck._

_Just stay alive out there…Skipper. I don't know what the future holds, but I can't lose you a second time._

_-Ash_

_Death closes all: but something ere the end,_

_Some work of noble note, may yet be done._

_Not unbecoming men that strove with Gods._

She apologized, sort of. I didn't blame her for not liking Cerberus – hell, I didn't like them either – but how could she pin any amount of blame on me? I was dead!

I wished things had gone differently seeing her on Horizon. I wish she had joined my crew again. I wish I could talk to her for just a few more minutes and try to explain why I was with Cerberus and what was going on.

Yeoman Kelly Chambers – our resident crew psychologist and my personal assistant – asked me about Ash once we were on our way again. She asked me if I still had feelings for her. I remember my throat tightening as I said the words, feeling sick to my stomach as the reality settled in: I loved Ash, but she couldn't follow me now. We were, for lack of a better word, separated.

I promised myself that I would remain true to her. God it was difficult to do!

Nearly every woman except Samara (and perhaps Jack) threw herself at me. And while I was flattered, it was aggravating as hell. Couldn't we just be friends? Couldn't we just be professional? I guess suicide missions make you desperate to get in the last word, the last admission of feeling.

I'd tried my best to be neutral with the women; kind, but to a point. Too much kindness and before I knew it I was wading into uncharted waters and possible relationships that I didn't want.

Despite it all, the mission was a go. My squad was ready. We were going to take on the Collectors on their own front. "Kick 'em right in their daddy bags" as Kenneth the engineer had so accurately put it.

I glanced one more time at Ashley's picture. I wasn't just fighting to save humanity from the Collectors or ultimately against the impending Reaper invasion. I was fighting for a purpose. My own purpose? For all of this to be over with: for me to finally have Ashley back.

I stood from my chair, cracked my knuckles, and took one determined step after another out of the captain's cabin to the elevator.

We were going to beat this threat, no matter what it took.


End file.
